They had to get the Who to play the Super Bowl – widely touted as "the world's biggest gig", this year. After all, who else is left? They've already had Springsteen and the Stones, Prince and Paul McCartney, Mariah and Beyonce, Aerosmith and U2, Janet Jackson and Justin Timberlake ... I wouldn't like to be on the committee for picking next year's half-time musical entertainment, unless Michael Jackson does a Lazarus job or Led Zep can be coaxed back for one final blow-out. It just wouldn't work with Kasabian, would it?

Of course it's ironic that the corporate behemoth that is the Super Bowl seems to feel so comfortable with that whole baby-boomer/countercultural demographic of which the Who are so emblematic. They were also obviously comfortable with the notoriety – and not the good, rock-rebel kind – that has surrounded Pete Townshend since his 2003 arrest for accessing child pornography online. And even though he was subsequently cleared on charges of possession of indecent images, many child protection groups snapped into action on hearing about Townshend's imminent performance and made their feelings known ahead of yesterday's game.

Still the Super Bowl organisers went ahead with it. In a way, they got a double-whammy with the Who. Apart from a massive-name band who built their reputation on filling the wide open spaces of the world's biggest enormodomes, they got some of their lingering renegade cachet. Plus, they knew they would be guaranteed publicity from the controversy. Certainly, Janet Jackson's now-infamous 2004 "wardrobe malfunction" increased the Super Bowl's renown even in those far reaches of the globe where they have no interest in American football.

It all felt pretty – to use that gruesome phrase – synergistic, even though, in the build-up to the performance, both Roger Daltrey and Townshend admitted they knew little about American football, while Daltrey said he'd never been to an NFL game before. Well, I don't know much about the Who and I've never been to one of their gigs before but even I could tell they fit the event like a glove (oops, my bad, that's baseball). Daltrey and Townshend hurtled through a Greatest Hits medley that included Pinball Wizard, Baba O'Riley, Who Are You, See Me Feel Me and Won't Get Fooled Again. Townshend appeared dressed as Elvis Costello circa Trust, in dark jacket, shades and trilby, while Daltrey wore a stripey blazer that made him look like an extra from 1960s conspiracy TV series the Prisoner. His voice, though ragged after years of abuse, held its own over his bandmate's epochal power chords, and the laser lights and pyrotechnics gave the whole thing the feel of a classic stadium rock show.

It must have been thrilling to have been in the crowd, and it did indeed feel like a celebration, only the exultant atmosphere was marred somewhat by the knowledge that not everyone was overjoyed to have the band, Townshend in particular, there at all. As Daltrey sang on Won't Get Fooled Again, of that golden time in the future when people would be less quick to judge, "The morals that they worship will be gone." Well, not exactly.